


Wandering Ghost

by mariclipse



Series: Amor Delicata [23]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Feelings, Ghostbur, M/M, Memories, Recovered Memories, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariclipse/pseuds/mariclipse
Summary: Ghostbur is wandering through the woods alone, and encounters a masked man. For some reason the man causes memories to resurface. So taking the best course of action he decides he wants to spend as much time with said man.After all, who doesn't want to remember what seems to be the best parts of their life?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Series: Amor Delicata [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013283
Comments: 3
Kudos: 233
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Wandering Ghost

Wilbur was wandering through the forest. Too invested in playing his guitar to pay attention to anything going around. His fingers strumming the guitar absentmindedly.

A melody seemingly so familiar yet so unknown.

He was alone for the first time in a while.

All his friends were busy, that’s what he was told at least. He was sure they just didn’t want to face him anymore. He wouldn’t judge them, he knew Alivebur did some horrible things, and the memories weren’t ever nice.

Fundy was actively avoiding him. Claiming to be busy at all times, immediately looking for a distraction or escape when with Wilbur. It made sense to the ghost. He wouldn’t want to be with someone who caused him bad feelings.

The bad feelings caused pain, and the pain left its mark on someone.

He would apologize, but he had no idea what he was apologizing for.

All the ghost knew was that they were painful memories, or he wouldn’t feel the immense guilt he felt.

He cleared his head as he looked up. His hands no longer played a familiar melody.

Instead, his posture was tense and his hands were showcasing cuts from the guitar strings. He stared at the dark blue liquid coming from his hand. It was spilling out quickly, though it seemed his skin had just closed back up, regeneration happening once again, though the pain still lingered.

It was a confusing thing in itself. He was a ghost, things like this weren’t meant to affect him. A guitar wasn’t supposed to cut through his fingers.

Wilbur wanted to groan, but he couldn't help but stare at the dark color in his hands.

The liquid was mesmerizing. Truly magnificent in his eyes, the memories that came from this scene were better though.

He recognized some from moments when he would spar with Techno and end up with cuts. When he had to go into a forest in search of his younger brother, falling off a cliff nearly dying, Philza scolded him the day after.

There were some that weren’t like the rest. The memory wasn’t as clear as the others. The images blurry and the audio distorted.

\----

_ He wasn’t sure where he was, but the room was lovely. It seemed to be noon, the sun lighting the room leaving a golden glow. _

_ He saw his fingers bloodied, his guitar next to his. Staring at his hands like some seconds ago.  _

_ The door opened, someone was talking excitedly until they saw him. That was when they nearly dropped everything before rushing over to him. It was clear they were worried. He said something that Will didn’t understand clearly, but the look in their eyes claimed they were worried. _

_ Will responded with something, probably brushing off the injury. Their eyes stared at him before grabbing his other hand and leading him through a cottage. _

_ They grabbed some glowing red liquid, pouring it over his fingers. The injuries disappeared, a smile coming to his face realizing what it was. _

_ The other kissed his hand before hugging him tightly. _

_ \---- _

He was confused. Why had they kissed his hands? 

How could he see their eyes clearly but not the rest? How were they so bright anyway? 

Though he didn’t have any answers he knew he now adored the color green as much as the color blue, though blue was still better. He just wasn’t sure why it felt like a comforting color instead of a calming one like blue.

Who was the person anyway? He didn’t know anyone with green eyes that bright, did he? 

"Ghostbur?" A voice asked, causing him to look up. Why was Dream here? When did he get here? Why did he feel comfortable all of a sudden?

"Yeah?" His voice was shaky, and it wasn't appreciated. He didn't want to be sad in front of someone. He had to be happy, people like being happy. And being sad brought bad things.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about whatever was- is bothering you?" He asked, his hand reaching out to the brunette.

The ghost flinched as he thought back at what flashed through his mind. He wouldn't be able to give the masked man an answer anyway. He smiled and shook his head. It would probably be convincing towards someone like his younger brother or his son, not to the admin of the server.

Dream stared at him through the mask. His mind disagreed with the ghost. Seeing the brunette didn't want to talk about it, he just decided to ease his mind from it instead. Probably find a way to distract him like he used to when he was alive. 

He grabbed the ghost's hand and pulled him away. Making sure not to hurt the other, if that is possible.

Wilbur stared at their hands. Why did it remind him of something? Why did it feel like the man’s who grabbed his hand in his memory? Especially since he was wearing gloves, the man in his memories wasn’t so what gives?

He heard the other start speaking, so he brushed aside his thoughts. They can be sorted out some other time.

"You know I had this place that really calmed me. It had the most beautiful view, and it was far away from everyone, so I didn't have to worry about anyone finding me. I think you'll love it"

The blond led him to the place he was talking about for a few minutes. It wasn't as far from L'Manberg as he originally thought, but it was far enough that no one would care enough to get there.

It turned out to be true. The view was astounding as the blond said. It was relaxing, so of course he was awestruck. The way the sky seemed to fade into different colors as the sunset. The clouds are light purple. The way it overlooked the rest of the forest and the meadows ahead was amazing. As if it had just come out of a painting.

\-----

_ Wilbur was sitting with someone on top of a hill. It was peaceful and lovely. _

_ His stomach felt warm and fuzzy as the other person held his hand, rubbing circles onto his hand. They were saying something, but he wasn’t paying attention. _

_ He was too busy being awestruck by whoever was beside him. He felt honored when he looked at the other’s eyes. Not many saw him the way the brunette did. _

_ The ungraceful, clumsy, overbearing, awkward, flustered side was only reserved for him. No one else got to see it besides him, not even his closest friends. It was something he felt proud of. Only he could see this. _

_ Wilbur leaned forward. Kissing the other, stopping the rant half way. Green eyes stared at him, their mouth opening to say something. _

_ \------ _

His eyes widened, tears on the edge of spilling. 

Why did he feel sad all of a sudden? Wasn’t that a good memory? 

Why did the blond cause him to remember these things anyway? He didn’t know anyone else who caused these feelings.

Why did he kiss them anyway? Why was he so honored to see a side of them if it didn’t matter to anyone else? Where was that person anyway? Were they in the same cottage as the previous memories?

What did Alivebur get that was so amazing in the past?

And why couldn’t he have it now?

Ghostbur erased those thoughts, as his smile widened. Making sure he wasn’t tearing up anymore. He wouldn’t be sad in front of Dream. The ghost looked over at the masked man, smile grateful and eyes shinning brightly. They were the bright brown they used to be whenever they were alone.

Ghostbur thanked him for bringing him here as the blond prepared to leave knowing he wouldn't be able to stay with the ghost for long will hour being reminded of the bad memories from the past.

Ghostbur grabbed his hand, his eyes hesitant.

Wilbur wanted to stay with the other. The memories he brought were amazing, and he wanted to know more, the full story if he could. As far as he knew only Dream caused those memories to return. The only way to find out more was through him, so he made up his mind.

"Dream, may I stay with you? For some time, please? I really don't want to bother you, but nobody wants me back in L'Manberg and you feel comfortable," he explained, fidgeting with his sleeve lightly.

He felt the other stare at him as he waited for a response.

"I don't see why not," he heard the man say as he let go of his wrist.

Wilbur immediately started cheering. Repeating the word 'yay' over and over again. He was happy the other let him stay. After all, he didn't really have a home in L'Manberg.

It was just his sewers, and they were everywhere. He wanted a place like in his memories. One he could share with someone else, mainly whoever was in his memories but until then, Dream would be just as great.

.........

It turned out the choice of living with Dream was the best one he had made so far. 

Dream had a home that looked identical to the one that replayed in his mind. It felt like an actual home, warm and comforting. It's not cold and open. The blond made sure he was always happy too. Letting him avoid topics whenever he wanted, though there were some times when he was forced to speak of it.

Dream had an underground garden, one under his home. With a small trap door leading to it, Dream said it was better that way. So that animals would walk over it, and people wouldn’t ruin it that way. There were all types of flowers, and even some beehives! The bees didn’t like him as much as they did with Dream though.

And there was also a small farm. Filled with vegetables, carrots, beets, potatoes, etc.

They always took care of it. Just like the one above, a farm of animals instead. Dream even let him keep an animal he found the other day. A blue sheep he decided to call Friend. The blond was supportive of everything he did, though he would scold him at times when he disappeared for too long.

At the current moment they were spending the evening working on the garden and the farm, it was a good thing that helped calm them both.

Dream seemed to be amazing with the bees and Wilbur was confused as to how. He never even saw the blond close to bees, but knowing the underground garden existed he thought it was obvious why he was great with the insects.

They spoke throughout their progress most of the time.

Wilbur speaking of memories he could remember.

Like how he used to attempt to spar with his older brother but would end up getting beat up by the piglin. How Tommy was only a child when he started to swear, everyone had blamed the brunettes, but then they heard Philza swear, and they knew it was from their father.

Or the times he spent with Sally and Fundy, though there wasn’t much from Sally, there was a lot more from Fundy. How the redhead had always been someone mischievous. When he decided to turn all the water in their house into the color red just to freak anyone who came.

The blond would only reply with small comments of how nice it sounded. Or there were moments where it would turn around.

Dream speaking of memories with his own family. Things like taking care of Tubbo when he was sick, or how his father helped him learn how to control his admin powers.

He spoke about learning to get used to the pain he would feel whenever his land blew up, how with every creeper blowing up he would fall unconscious until he learned how to cope with it. How he was bedridden the first time the war took place.

Wilbur learned that the blond suffered from a lot of traumas from his past.

The ghost apologized for anything in the name of L’Manburg and himself, but Dream had pushed it aside, claiming it was part of the past, and he wasn't willing to dwell on it for long.

It was calming for both parties.

Ghostbur was confused as to why it felt nice to speak with the blond. It just felt like he was safe and cared for here even if his family wasn't around for miles. The blond just caused him to feel comfortable, and he didn't want to give that up.

Dream, unlike the ghost, understood why it felt nice and peaceful with the ghost there. They were reliving his memories, the feeling of nostalgia floating above them, of peaceful days with the brunette just talking and goofing off.

One of those days they had an interesting conversation.

\----

_ “Wilbur, you’re not a shadow” The blond said on one of their quiet days. He was confused. He never told the other about that. Never told the blond how he felt about what others told him. _

_ “Don’t listen to others when they tell you that you’re like a shadow of when you were alive, because you’re not. When I first met you, you were the same exact way you are right now” Wilbur had raised his head to stare at the other, only to see the blond was facing away from him. His eyes were tearing up once again, this time from happiness though. A huge smile had overtaken his face. _

_ “I won’t Dream!” He replied as he started floating above the floor even more, his happiness overtaking his emotions. _

_ “You’re really like the Wilbur I know… C’mon let’s go upstairs” _

_ \------ _

It soon turned to night and Wilbur was given a room with honey yellow walls. There were areas on the walls that seemed left unfinished, a light blue underneath the honey yellow. Wood furniture with white pain chipping off at the sides. It seemed clean though it looked old.

A guitar laid on the side of the bed, in a box with green wrapping paper. It looked older than the gift box. There were cuts engraved onto the guitar’s wood, strings broken and some long gone.

The room felt like a home, a familiar place but the moment the blond left the room it lost some of its touch. Just keeping the familiarity in it.

He looked around trying to find any trace of whoever lived there before. Wilbur couldn't think of whoever used to occupy the room as he searched through the place. He didn't know anyone who played instruments besides Quackity, and he doubted the blond would even be thinking of letting the man enter the house without a scar or two.

As he made his books appear, he laid them on the desk before grabbing a certain one. Tuning his fingers through the page a quill appeared, already freshly dipped with ink.

With that he began to write what he learned today. He refused to forget the blond again, it was clear he was important in the past if he left the feeling of home everywhere he was.

…….

Apparently Dream had nightmares.

He knew the other suffered from PTSD, but he didn’t know that it was severe enough to haunt his nightmares. He has dealt with panic attacks before. The sudden faraway look in the blond’s eyes when he went completely into survival mode, having an ax to his throat.

He had dealt with that, and now he would learn to deal with nightmares.

Wilbur had heard a scream all of a sudden. It was horrifying, red flags were raised the moment he realized it came from Dream’s room. So like a normal friend - nope, that sounded wrong- ghost? He rushed to the blond’s room.

The blond was curled onto himself. His eyes having a frantic look. Hands on his ax already. Dream was whispering things as tears ran down his face.

That night he scolded Dream on bottling things up though the ghost was a hypocrite. They just spend the night there. Dream clutching onto his arms in hope of the security he had long ago. The ghost refused to go back to his own bedroom, refusing to let him go once again.

Wilbur was fine with the blond clinging to him as if his life depended on it. It was concerning to him, how desperate the blond was to be with him instead of staying as far away as he could from the ghost like others.

There have been other moments where the same has happened. That was when they seemed to bond the most, mainly because every time they would wait it out until sunrise and when it was six am they would head towards the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast. Wilbur held his hand, and Dream held onto it with a clutch that seemed to scream the word fear.

It just became a tradition of sorts. Will would hold him until the sun rose. Then they would go to make breakfast together, neither of them mentioning the nightmares and just working together in comfortable silence.

It felt like he did this before, when he was alive and remembered everything that happened in his life. This was already a tradition they had made, only recently being used again.

He remembered many things when he was with the blond in all honesty.

He remembers holding a man through what seemed to be a panic attack. Hugging them tightly, tears rolled down his own face as he whispered reassurances to the other. That was his first time dealing with a man in that state.

Then there was one where he asked to hold the man. Telling him what time it was and where they were. It always worked for him. When he regained this memory he started to use it on Dream, thinking it would work on him if it worked on the man in his memories. It worked.

He remembered gardening with the other, bees sticking to them as they laughed at some dumb thing he said.

Playing music for the green-eyed man. His voice is the only sound in the house.

Things that left him flustered for hours on end and should never be shared with anyone besides the green-eyed man. On days with those memories he just wanted to curl into himself and hide red face, knowing he said those things and did those things. 

Moments with Fundy, the other talking with his son at an alarming pace, only the redhead understood. It would always be something that caused chaos for others.

Having the blond tell him all sorts of praises, mostly of how amazing he was.

Returning the praises when they were alone at night.

Thoughts of proposing were always rushing through his mind when things felt so domestic. Like when he worked with the other throughout the morning to make food or on a beautiful garden.

Having to hide it from his closest friends, only the green-eyed man’s friends knew about them. Well, only two, and those two were always supportive of it. Helping both of them get alone time whenever they wanted as long as they made sure to work just as hard.

Yeah… He knew it was Dream by this point. What he didn’t know was when he was going to confront the other about it.

So he decided to act as recklessly as he would normally. He grabbed the blond on one of their quiet days, just grabbing his face as he kissed him. He didn’t know if the other returned the motion but he knew that it was all it took for every bit of information of the blond to rush back to him.

Small touches.

Laughter.

Smiles.

Quiet greetings.

Everything.

His face was red when he pulled away. Dream stared at him shocked, he was at a loss of words. Ghostbur waited for the blond to realize what had happened as he continued to stare at the brunette. When he didn’t get anything after what he felt like was hours, he looked back at the blond.

Tears were streaming down his face, he was desperately trying to wipe them away. His smile seemed pained and ecstatic at the same time. Dream started shaking and that was when Wilbur began to worry. He hugged the blond as he waited for any sort of answer.

Dream returned the hug, mumbling words. “You really don’t know how much it hurt me to know you didn’t remember anything” Dream laughed before opening his mouth again. His embrace tightening when the other’s body shook.

“And you don’t know how long  _ I _ waited to do that”


End file.
